


Drop Dead

by beadedslipper



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Supernatural Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beadedslipper/pseuds/beadedslipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are unforeseen consequences when, in the middle of an argument, Clarke tells Bellamy to drop dead.  Or, the one where Bellamy’s a ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drop Dead

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. Don’t ask me. Apparently I am insane and easily amused. That’s the only excuse I’ve got.

They were arguing.  As usual.  Stick Bellamy and Clarke in just about any situation and it was bound to happen.  It was like she couldn’t help it.  She just saw his stupid face with his stupid freckles and his stupid smug smile and she completely lost her cool.

Today was a rehash of an old argument.  Defensive militarism vs. peaceful overtures.  Bellamy wanted to stay within the relative safety of the walls and shoot anyone unknown on sight.  He was on a paranoid kick.  Clarke wanted to give cohabitation with the grounders another shot.  Anya’s clan might be against them but that didn’t mean she was the only option.

They were never going to agree.  They had gone over it a hundred times which meant that they quickly ran through any logical arguments and things got personal real fast.  Still, they had never said anything truly awful to each other until the day he said something along the lines of ‘privileged princess with her nose too far in the air to see sense.’

She snorted in derision and responded harshly.  “Drop dead.”

Three days later those words rang irrationally in her ears when Bellamy was hit in the head by a grounder mace and fell into a coma.  She was standing over his body where it was laid out on the second floor of the drop ship.  She had come up to check his heart rate.  It was steady.  Now she found herself just staring at him, a strange ache in her chest.

“Come back.  Please.” She whispered.  “I can’t do this alone.  I need you.”

“Aww.  I didn’t know you cared.”

Clarke whirled.  She thought she was alone up here.  When she saw the person behind her her mouth dropped open.

He smirked.  “Hey princess.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————

_“Bellamy?!”_  She exclaimed.

“Miss me?” He teased.  She stared at him.  He was white.  And transparent.  And floating.  Like, legitimately floating, a little tapered tail where the lower half of his legs would be.

“How is this possible?” She breathed.

He shrugged.  Could ghosts shrug?  “Hell if I know.”

She walked over and stuck her finger in his stomach.  “Hey!” He protested.  She pulled her finger in and out over and over again, completely fascinated.

“Amazing…”

“Are you done?” She glanced up to see Bellamy’s irritated face.

“Yeah…sorry…this is just weird…”

“You’re telling me.”

“You’re a ghost.”

He nodded.

“You’re a  _ghost_.” She repeated.

“Yeah, princess I get it.”

“Are you sure you don’t know how this happened?  Wasn’t there like, a white light or something?”

“I already told you princess I’ve got no fuc…”

“Okay, okay.  Fine.  Enough with the how.  Let’s try why?”

He grinned.  “Simple.  The way I figure it, this is your fault, so I’m here to haunt you.”

“WHAT?!”

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Corporeal or not, when Bellamy Blake set out to do something he didn’t do it halfway.  He popped up in front of her face when she was trying to talk to someone, making her jump.  He floated under her feet when she was walking, forcing her to experience the uncanny sensation of stepping on his face.  He flew through her body when she was sterilizing the med bay, sending her into violent chills.  He hovered somewhere close to her through the entirety of her very long days.  When she finally did get to go to sleep he would keep her awake by talking nonsense all night.

By the end of the first week she was jumping at shadows and everyone in camp was giving her weird looks.  It didn’t improve from there.

This went on for weeks.  She tried explaining to him that it wasn’t her fault.  He figured even if it wasn’t she was the one who told him to drop dead and he just about did, so it might as well be.  She tried apologizing but he didn’t care because what good did that do him?  She even tried begging.  Nothing worked and Clarke was beside herself.  She twitched at small noises, there were huge bags under her eyes, and she had lost weight.

And so maybe that was why she overreacted, slightly, when she caught one of the sentries sleeping on duty.  She read him the riot act, yelling loud enough that the whole camp stopped what they were doing to stare.  She only stopped when the frustrated guard yelled a, “Okay already!  I’m sorry!” at her.

She gave him one last warning glare before turning and going back to her other duties.  As she was walking away he muttered, “fucking crazy bitch.”

She stiffened.  The words hurt and her first thought was he never would have dared say that to Bellamy.  She started to keep walking when suddenly she heard the boy yelp.  She turned around to see him hopping frantically on one foot.  It looked like a spark from the fire had jumped and set his shoe on fire.

“Put it out!  Put it out!” He squeaked.

She turned to her left to see Bellamy watching the boy in fury.  His hands were fisted, his jaw was clenched, and his translucent form looked, almost, red.

“Did you do that?” She muttered out of the side of her mouth.

He startled at her question, the anger melting from his posture.  He drifted to face her and his eyes were wide.  “Bellamy?”

“No.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He disappeared.

————————————————————————————————————————————

Clarke didn’t see Bellamy again for two days.  She was starting to get worried.  She still checked on his body regularly and his pulse and breathing were still strong and steady.  So either he had moved on and there was some kind of lag between spirit and body or he was avoiding her.

She would bet a week’s rations it was the second. 

That night she went back up to the second level of the drop ship and shut the door.

“Bellamy!” She hissed.  “Bellamy!”

The room stayed empty save for her and his sleeping body.  “Bellamy Blake you get your pasty ass out here right now!”

“Jeeze.  Fine.  Just leave my ass out of it.”

She whirled.  He was lounging lazily in midair, arms crossed and a bored expression on his face.

“Where the hell have you been?” She demanded.

He rolled his eyes.  “Around.”

“Well you could have at least told me where you were going.”

He frowned.  “Why?”

She spluttered.  “You…you just should’ve told me.”

A shit-eating grin spread across his face.  “Were you worried about me princess?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed.

He just kept smiling like Christmas had come early.  “Oh, yeah?  What about you huh?  How exactly did that guy’s boot catch on fire?  Hmmm?”

It was his turn to scramble for words.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?  He was standing a good four feet from the fire.”

“So?”

“So?  Sparks don’t jump that far.”

He pursed his lips (and it was infinitely amusing to her that a ghost could pout).

“C’mon Bellamy just admit it already.”

He sighed.  “Okay, fine!  It was me.”

She was surprised.  She hadn’t expected him to own up.  “Why’d you do it?”

He grunted uncomfortably.  “No one’s allowed to give you shit but me.”

Clarke was stunned.  That was the last thing she expected to hear from him.  She wanted to ask why.  Why he did it.  Why he cared.  But she could tell pushing him further right now would not be a good plan.  Bellamy Blake and emotions did not mix.  She changed tacks.

“So, you can move stuff around?”

He shrugged.  “I guess so.”

“That’s…terrible news actually.” He looked at her incredulously.  “Seriously.  You were trouble enough before.  Now you can actually touch things?  This is horrible.”

A grin slowly split his face.  She could see the wall through the back of his head and, in a fit of mischief, scooped a stray lug nut from the floor and tossed it with killer accuracy through his mouth.

“Score!”

He stared at her stunned for a split second and then they both dissolved into laughter.  Real, belly holding, body shaking laughter.

It felt good.

————————————————————————————————————————————

After that things changed.  Bellamy stopped actively sabotaging her and instead sort of just followed her around during the day.  In the evenings, in her tent, she would talk to him about the camp and what needed to be done.  It helped her to have a sounding board and, even though he wasn’t physically there, they worked together to solve camp issues in the way that they had been starting to before his accident.

One particularly bad day, when grounders ambushed a hunting party, Bellamy had left Clarke alone to concentrate on healing the wounded.  She was stressed enough without him hovering over her shoulder.  When he left her she and Raven had been working frantically to save the few who had made it back.  Of the original five in the party, only two had returned.  One had an arrow through the shoulder and a gash on his leg.  The other was young, maybe fourteen, and had a spear through the stomach.

Camp eventually calmed down and finally even the lights in the drop ship were extinguished.  Bellamy floated over to Clarke’s tent to check on her but, to his surprise, she wasn’t there.  He drifted back to the drop ship, thinking maybe she was still cleaning up…alone…in the dark…

She wasn’t there either and he started to get worried.  He took himself high over the camp and did a circuit.  Nothing.

When he finally found her it was by accident.  He almost missed her but out of the corner of his eye he saw a dot of yellow in the gloom.  He soared downward.  There she was, leaning against a tree, knees drawn up to her chest and face pressed into her legs, outside the safety of the gate.

“What the hell princess?  Why are you out here?!  Are you insane?  Do you want to be grounder-bait?”

She picked her head up dully and he stopped yelling.  Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, her cheeks were tear-stained.  She looked wrecked. 

He was shocked.  Clarke never fell apart.

Then again, looking back, he remembered that she would always disappear for an hour after something particularly horrible had happened.  So, maybe it wasn’t that she never fell apart.  Maybe it was that he never bothered to notice before.

He didn’t know what to say and so he just floated there in silence.

“I lost her.”  Clarke whispered after a while.  “The girl with the spear.” She elaborated at his questioning look.  “And not just her.  Four of our people are dead today because of me.”  Tears started to fall down her face again at this admission.

“Woah, woah.  This isn’t your fault princess.” He drifted down so their faces were on a level.  Her blue eyes were shattered as she looked at him.

“I didn’t protect them.” She croaked brokenly.

“You did everything you could.” He tried to reassure her.  He didn’t like to see her like this.  Clarke was strong.  She was always in control.  He shouldn’t care.  He thought he didn’t care.  But seeing her like this…he wanted his warrior princess back.

“You can’t fix the world Clarke.”

Her eyes widened and for the first time since he found her she met his gaze.  “What?” He asked.

“You said my name.  You  _never_  say my name.”

He looked back and realized she was right.  “I…I guess… I realized you aren’t _always_  a spoiled know-it-all.”

Her lips twitched in a hint of a smile.  He was relieved until it started to fade.  “I’m sorry about wishing you dead.”

He shrugged.  “It’s no big deal.”

“It is.” She insisted.  “I promise I’ll find a way to bring you back.”

He felt a strange ache in his chest where his heart would be.  “You can’t fix the world Clarke.”

Her eyes sparked.  “I can try.”  The dash of determination in her voice was music to his ears.  She was back.

He had the strangest urge.  He knew it wouldn’t work.  Neither of them would feel a thing, but still.  Something was telling him to go for it anyway.  Bellamy wasn’t one to deny his urges, so he did.

He reached out to her.  She pulled back.  “What are you doing?” She hiccoughed.

He glared.  “Would you just sit still?  I want to try something.”

Very carefully he cupped her face in his translucent hands.  She shivered at his cold touch, the only sensation the contact would give her.  And then, so slowly that she would see it coming a mile off, he bent his head and touched his incorporeal lips to hers.  He kept his eyes open, watching her reaction.  At first she was stunned motionless and he almost pulled away before she leaned slightly forward into his kiss, her hands reaching out to trace his ghostly biceps as her eyes slipped closed.

He could have sworn he felt a rush of warmth from his lips through his nonexistent body.

Then there was nothing.

Clarke opened her eyes when the chill of Bellamy’s lips was suddenly gone to see she was alone in the forest.

“Bellamy?” She whispered.

“BELLAMY!”

———————————————————————————————————————————-

Clarke raced through the stirring camp, blond hair flying behind her.  She ignored the stares of the sleepy delinquents, her only goal getting to the drop ship.  She crashed through the tarp, grabbing the ladder and scampering up.

“Bellamy!” She yelled, bursting through the hatch.  A small party looked up in surprise at her dramatic entrance.  Octavia, Jasper, Raven, and, at their center, a conscious Bellamy Blake.

“Clarke, look!” Octavia exclaimed.  “Bell’s awake.  Isn’t it awesome?!”

Clarke emerged through the whole at a more sedate pace, staring at those brown eyes she hadn’t seen in over a month.  “Yes.  Awesome.  Excuse me.”  She knelt at his side, trying to stay detached, clinical.  “How are you feeling?” She asked, studying his face.

He shrugged.  “Fine.  Considering I’ve apparently been napping for the last month.”

“Any discomfort?” She asked. 

“A little stiffness.  And really fucking tired for all the sleep I just got.”

She slipped a hand beneath the back of his shirt, placing her whole palm between his shoulder blades.  She tried to ignore the spark of electricity that the contact with his skin gave her.  He shivered at her touch.

“Your hand’s cold.” He explained at her questioning look.

She nodded.  “Take a deep breath.”

He obeyed.  “Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with you physically.  Do you…do you remember anything?”

For a second she would’ve sworn she saw a flash of recognition in his eyes but, if it was there, he hid it quickly.  “No.  The last thing I remember is leaving the camp to go hunting.”

She nodded stiffly, quickly removing her hand which had still been under his shirt.  She pushed herself to her feet.  “Well, I guess that’s to be expected.  Things can finally get back to normal.  Just try to take it easy for a few days.”

“Whatever you say princess.”

Clarke turned away and very carefully left the drop ship, ignoring the confused glances the others gave her.  Then she went back to her tent and cried for what had almost been.

——————————————————————————————————————————

In the following days Clarke was on a mission.  She completed tasks and solved problems and healed patients with a single-minded intensity that was bordering on obsessive.  She needed to be distracted.

She could feel Bellamy watching her.  He melded seamlessly back into his former position in camp.  The delinquents immediately followed him again and within a week he was taking hunting parties out and organizing watch rotations like nothing had changed.  He cooperated with her better, and, when she absolutely had to, they would work together to find solutions to problems.  But always she could feel his eyes on her.

She wished he would stop.

It only hurt.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Bellamy watched Clarke closely after he woke up.  Not because he was waiting for her to make a mistake or because he didn’t trust her decisions.

It was because he had lied when he said he didn’t remember.  At first it had only been hazy shadows, but within a day everything that had happened to him came back.

He watched her bury herself into work and running the camp.  He knew she was probably trying to avoid her feelings about what had happened between them.  He thought it was perfectly understandable since she thought he didn’t remember.  And it’s not that he was against what had happened between them.  The fact that he’d woken up immediately after kissing her?  That had to mean something.

He just didn’t know what to do about it.

But he couldn’t let things stay the way they were.  At the rate she was going Clarke was gonna hurt herself.  If she passed out from exhaustion and malnutrition it would be his fault.

So he did the only thing he could.  The next time she decided to go on the hunt for some herb or another he told Jasper to stay at camp.

He would be going with Clarke.

When he was the one to show up outside the gates that morning he thought her eyes were going to blow out of her head.

“What are  _you_  doing here?” She spat belligerently.  “You’re supposed to be resting.”

He grinned cockily.  “I’m done resting.  I thought a nice, leisurely stroll would be good to strengthen my poor, atrophied muscles.”

“Do you even know the meaning of the word atrophied?” Clarke muttered darkly.

“I  _read_  princess.  You privileged don’t have a monopoly on that you know.”  He noticed that she flinched at the nickname.  An idea started churning in his head.

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to obey her and send Jasper out in his place she huffed in annoyance and stomped into the brush.  He followed, his long legs letting him keep up with her easily.

Of course, this annoyed her if the furious glances she kept shooting him were any evidence.  She picked up her pace, putting distance between them. 

When they neared the lake where Clarke’s plant grew Bellamy decided this was as good a time as any to make his move.

“Hey, wait up!” He called.

She ignored him, striding eagerly towards the blue water.

He tried again.  “ _Clarke_ , wait up.”

She froze mid-step, turning slowly to see him watching her with a tentative smile on his lips.  He walked slowly towards her, keeping his eyes locked on hers.  He watched as a delicate hope filled her beautiful blues.

“Bellamy?” She whispered disbelievingly when he was close.

He grinned. “I remember everything.”

“And?” She asked.  She trembled and her eyes were wide.  He reached out to rub his hands up and down her arms.

“And I don’t want things to go back to normal.”

There, by the edge of the lake with the crystal waters of earth shining in the background, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.  He had briefly wondered if it would be as good as when he was a ghost.

It wasn’t.  It was better.

And things didn’t go back to normal.  They were better too.

After all, Bellamy always got what he wanted.


End file.
